


Certain Intimations

by dj_aldo



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, Nathalie is Salty, Set during Le Collectionneur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 19:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12894783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dj_aldo/pseuds/dj_aldo
Summary: Nathalie Sancoeur needs a raise.





	Certain Intimations

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hi there! This is my first story for Miraculous Ladybug, so I hope you enjoy! This story is set during the events of Le Collectionneur.

Nathalie Sancoeur did not want for much. Or anything, really.

She was born an anal retentive teacher’s pet who slowly worked her way up the corporate ladder to become an incorrigible taskmaster. It was only until she was eventually let go from enough managerial positions that her last option ended up being an Executive Assistant gig at a fashion company she’d never heard of. Fashion was not something she kept up with. All she wanted was to be in charge of something, anything - even if it was the schedule of a 15 year-old model with too many extracurriculars - and to get the occasional _thank you for your deposit!_ notification from her bank app to prove she was still a functioning human being.

So she walked right into becoming Gabriel Agreste’s eternal servant. Some people might expect that longevity, loyalty, and strong work ethic in such a position might, at some point, warrant a promotion.

Instead, Nathalie finds herself trapped inside of a magical book, wielded by her calculating yet maniacal super villain boss, who hasn’t even cut her check for the week yet.

 _Oh, merde._ She thinks as she sits in the existentially boggling blank white room that serves as her temporary prison, listening to the exasperated voice of her aforementioned boss berating two teenagers into giving him their magical jewelry. _I broke a nail._

There is an echo of shouting, and Chat Noir’s voice pierces through the haze of the strange dimension she is currently baffled by - “Ladybug, we’re out of ammo!” Surely, that means Gabriel has the advantage now. In his dreams. The two superheroes aren’t easily daunted despite obviously being children.

Children that eagerly bring Gabriel Agreste to his knees every week, sometimes twice a week, always in the same day. The thought makes her roll her eyes. She's not sure if she’ll be able to handle anymore of Gabriel’s - she could only call them tantrums - where he completely flew through the roof at the prospect of not being able to best a pair of twelve year olds. _Are they twelve?_ It was hard to tell.

It only takes a few moments for the situation to flip; Ladybug and Chat Noir turn the battle in their favor, because _of course they would win_ , they _always_ win, and at this point she is rooting for them purely so she can get out of this book and get back to work.

She hears the telltale call of “Miraculous Ladybug!” ring high and Nathalie closes her eyes and waits.

* * *

 

When she’s finally released from the book, she’s sitting at her desk, as if that’s where the universe decided she _belongs_ , responding to trite emails and answering the phone like some unpaid intern. Nathalie always felt she was better suited for leadership, but she had proven herself quite unskilled at working with people.

So, here she is, a paltry secretary, a glorified nanny, for a super villain. Who else would have taken her in? Certainly not Adrien’s mother, back when she still had a say in the company. Or, you know, was _alive_. Nathalie doubts that Madame Agreste is actually dead, if she’s honest with herself. She can understand wanting to flee and hide if your husband was, well, _Gabriel_ , and you were stuck having to raise the son you’d had with him.

If Nathalie Sancoeur is completely honest, she doesn’t see the appeal at all. Gabriel Agreste is a haughty nightmare, selfish, eons more childish than his emotional albeit far more independent son, and infinitely more blind to the possibilities of his power.

If it was Nathalie, she’d be handling this miraculous business very differently. After all, their opponents are only teenagers. How many teenagers could there possibly be in all of Paris? It couldn’t be that difficult to find out the identities of two brats and shake them down.

In her opinion, Gabriel is taking the wrong approach entirely.

It is obvious to her that defeating Ladybug and Chat Noir would be no small feat, and perhaps even impossible. The limits and potential variables of the miraculous power is an incalculable enigma, and perhaps even a fool’s task to attempt facing them in a fair fight. The children underneath those powers, however, are still human. And humans were easy to wear down if you exerted enough power over them.

She thinks this wryly with every sense of irony: Gabriel Agreste knows how much more efficient it is to use people when they are vulnerable. He is simply aiming for the wrong _vulnerable people_.

She ponders this, her eyes glued to her computer screen, which without any activity has switched over to a soothing floral screensaver. The realization that she’d been stewing silently to herself for over ten minutes - and that Gabriel had disappeared somewhere after his de-akumatization - was quickly cut short by the doorbell.

On reflex, Nathalie pushes a button to reveal the video feed from outside the mansion. A familiar girl with low pigtails stands there, waving awkwardly and smiling too big. Is that one of Adrien’s friends? She can’t remember. She hits the button for the intercom and leans into the microphone on her desk.

“What business do you have here?” Her monotone voice shoots through the speaker, startling Marinette. The dark-haired girl looks down at the ground, clutching the straps of her backpack.

“I, uh… I have something… something that belongs to Monsieur Agreste. I’d like to return it to him, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Nathalie’s eyebrows furrow. Is it a ruse to get inside? Maybe she wants to sneak a photo of Adrien. She leans forward into the mic again. “What is it?”

Marinette looks especially guilty now. “It’s a… a book of his.”

Well, that solves that mystery.

“Come in.” She says, pushing another button. The gates slowly open for Marinette, who approaches the front doors. As soon as she's inside, Gabriel is already standing there, waiting, like some omniscient ghost. Marinette quickly tries to hide an expression that makes her look like she wants to turn tail and run, putting on a brave face instead. Gabriel is as cold and impassive as ever. Nathalie almost feels bad for the girl. Almost.

"I'm so sorry, Monsieur Agreste..."

* * *

She's in the middle of something incredibly urgent when his voice cuts sharply through her bluetooth.

“Nathalie, come into my office.”

She stands from the chair without pause, immediately acquiescing to her master’s orders. She is a good little lap dog, after all.

When she crosses the foyer into his office, she stands at attention, her hands behind her back, sure she would be subjected to whatever evil monologue his majesty would launch into now that he had successfully thrown suspicion off himself. _For now,_ she thinks dryly.

First, however, she pauses and waits for Adrien, who is embracing Gabriel in front of that godawful portrait of his mother. They look all the part of loving son and doting father, slowly healing from the wound that woman had ripped into existence. Nathalie thinks it could almost be heartwarming, until she sees them shift towards the desk, where Gabriel nonchalantly drops a file into the small trash can, out of Adrien’s line of sight, which covers the ripped, crumpled picture of their family in crayon, drawn by Adrien as a child. The miraculous cure surely fixed the damage from Gabriel’s tantrum; Nathalie is certain that Gabriel must have seen fit to destroy the drawing again, to satisfy whatever petty qualms he had against his son.

“I’m glad you’re safe now, Father. I’m going to go study in my room.”

She side-steps to swiftly move out of the way for Adrien, watching his face intently, the expression of a boy who looks as if he’s finally gotten through and connected to his father somehow, seeming to have established some sort of new bond of understanding.

“Very good. I love you, son.” It’s hollow, but Adrien is so starved for affection he laps it up. Adrien stops at the doorway and turns around, looking at his father as if he’s a whole new person.

“I love you too, Father.”

He leaves with a contented smile, and Nathalie can’t help but watch his back for a moment as he walks up the stairs.

“Shut the door, Nathalie.”

She stares and wonders if, in the end, he will ever be able to forgive Gabriel for what the man has done. Will do.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of images switching on a tablet. She shuts the office door and steps around to see the entirety of the book on the screen, each image printed crisply to create a digital book.

“If you already digitized the book, why go through all the trouble?” She asks like a simpleton, as if she isn’t already aware of the answer. Gabriel likes to feel superior that way.

“I had to take suspicion off myself… I did what was necessary to keep my secret.” He arranges his fingers to insert into a series of buttons in the painting. Of course, with so much detail work, it would be near impossible to figure out which buttons on the painting could be pressed to unlock his secret lair. She eyes the security camera in the corner, which was pointed directly at the painting and Gabriel. She hopes for his sake, Adrien never gets smart about things.

Gabriel enters his lair by himself, leaving Nathalie to wait, standing alone in his office, for him to finish whatever he’s doing. He hadn’t told her to leave, after all.

When he re-enters the office, he looks incredibly self-satisfied. He turns his back to her as he diligently enters a code into the combination lock of the safe behind the painting.

“Nathalie, I will be very busy with an upcoming project in the next few months. In the meantime, I’d like to give you something.”

God, is it a bonus? She could barely drum up even a semblance of interest. The only fulfillment she gets these days is a deposit into her bank account, but even the potential of a monetary reward doesn’t bring her the satisfaction she hopes for. What does she need money for when all her needs are taken care of? It’s not like she wants for any particular thing, or has anyone to give things to. She’s found herself growing increasingly dissatisfied lately, but for reasons she can’t pinpoint. She has a perfectly acceptable job and eats nice meals and is given flattering, high brow work attire.

So what else could she possibly want?

“…A _promotion_ of sorts.”

The cogs that tick away in her brain halt momentarily, her ears pricking at the sound of the delicious reintroduction of capitalistic hierarchy into her sad little life. _Promotion._ The word is like sweet honey balm on her dried out, dusty heart. Gabriel takes something from the safe, shuts the excessively gaudy painting of his dead wife and hands her a brooch. Her nose wrinkles imperceptibly in distaste. She was never one for flashy jewelry.

“Put this on and see if it…compliments your wardrobe.”

She glances at his face and sees the thinly veiled eager expression and relents. She fastens the brooch to her lapel and out comes flying some sort of ungodly blue floating rodent that immediately begins to wail upon seeing the two of them.

“Maîtresse, maîtresse!” It cries, seemingly unconsolable. Gabriel’s expectant eyes turn up to meet hers.

“Now, say ‘transforme-moi’.”

So she does.

 _Oh,_ she thinks, suddenly absorbed in a powerful light that makes her feel both strong and weightless at the same time, _so this is what it feels like_. She feels a warm, magical embrace, wrapping around her like a blanket of goose feathers. When the light dissipates, Gabriel looks smugly satisfied.

“It’s a good look on you, Le Paon.”

This isn’t what she wants, Nathalie realizes. It’s more than she could have ever hoped for.

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Her personality here is probably kind of OOC. I love the concept of Nathalie as Le Paon but we’ve gotten little to no characterization of Ms. Sancoeur, who I think could be way more terrifying than Gabriel if given the right motivation. I imagine Nathalie as a kind of dickhead manager who goes on a power trip and turns out to be way worse than everyone could’ve imagined. Nice going, Gabe.
> 
>  
> 
> I love Adrien’s mom’s portrait u.u Nathalie’s just salty lmao


End file.
